


Feathered Edges

by FlamesVoices



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos-centric, M/M, Moving Tattoo(s), Tattooed Cecil, Wing AU, Wing Kink, Winged Carlos, Wingfic, wing!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5431589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlamesVoices/pseuds/FlamesVoices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a near-death experience as a child has rendered him with a unique ability, Carlos the Scientist ventures into Night Vale, where his ability not only becomes useful, but also introduces him to a few surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death is the Road to Awe

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a quick little production, meant to be short and sweet and fill in an idea. Enjoy!  
> Also! Please be gentle, it's my first WTNV fic in general, and I've been super shy about posting these~!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos dies and his eyes are literally opened to a new sight... Or rather, a series of them that lead to important life decisions.  
> Because science.

When Carlos was a boy, he died.

Or rather, he _was_ dead—he was dead for approximately 6.2 seconds, but that’s beside the point, no matter how scientifically accurate.

So when Carlos was a child, he died, and he saw things—things that weren’t anything like what his grandmother or father had told him was waiting for him after death. He was greeted with strange beings that spoke words that he couldn't even begin to make sense of, and remembers so many of them speaking to him, trying to talk to him, and then… Light again. There were frantic screams and shouts and people running all around him and lights and then the world was blanketed by a black sheet of generous unconsciousness.

When he’d woken up, he had discovered that he'd somehow grown a pair of wings—everyone had. The nurses, the doctors, his mother and father. Even himself, when he looked in a mirror to inspect his face and body to see just how bad the damage was, and found two feathered things arching up behind him.

His wings were those of an eagle, strong and sleek, black with a little bit of silver in them, and a white feather here and there spotting them, stuck between spread and folded behind him handsomely—they were gorgeous, or at least, they were to him.

He’d fainted, of course, immediately after seeing these things, what with their having taken a toll on his possible sanity. When he woke up, again—that seemed to be a theme these days, with Carlos—he'd asked his mother and father, who were confused and didn't understand what he was talking about.

Carlos had then deduced that they’d somehow always been there, but nobody could see them. It further proved his point when he watched as they phased through walls and people, though never another pair of wings, he noticed. Not really, unless those wings sought each other out, and when he saw that, usually the wings involved belonged to people who were married, or dating, or really close friends.

They were nice to see doing this, in general.

He felt privileged to see these strange wings shaped like magpies, falcons, parrots, even pigeons. They were an assorted addition to his world of vision, red feathers flaring up whenever someone was rubbed the wrong way, sleek silver wings flashing through the air smugly, the soft shuffle of down whenever someone was thinking. It made things easier for him to understand, made people easier to understand—he knew which people were doing well, who to avoid, what they were thinking and feeling.

In turn, Carlos learned how to fold and flex and spread and shuffle his wings, allowing him a private form of expression. Strangely enough, it affected those around him, and made him a little more sociable when it came to cues and signals that he couldn't always read. He'd always been a little awkward with people, as a rule.

Sometimes, though, he felt like he was intruding, seeing these people’s wings, and when he was old enough, he went into the field of science to try and discover just exactly what he was seeing. There was, of course, no scientific explanation for it, but he refused to give up without finding one.

And that’s when he received the letter.

 _“Welcome to Night Vale!”_ The postage had said. He’d looked over the pages, surprised to find that this strange little desert town, an infamous enigma in the scientific community, had heard that he and his little team had been investigating phenomena and was volunteering itself for these special studies.

He’d taken the letter over to his teammates, who had all shrugged and said “sure, why the hell not?” over lunch before making plans to pack and head out within the next week. Carlos called and sent letters ahead, filing paperwork and signing a lease with the rest of his team, and before he knew it, he was in a cramped car, driving out to this strange little desert town called Night Vale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just a note, this fic is a short little niblet from the wing!fic trash that I am. 
> 
> If you liked what you read, please feel free to leave a comment for me, or a kudos to say you stopped by and liked what you saw. All feedback is really appreciated and encourages this shy little writer to post faster here, and more frequently.  
> Thanks for reading! <3


	2. Blinded Me with Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos finds a surprise in Night Vale--one that he literally couldn't see coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the first fic I've ever finished in one go... Anyways!  
> Here, have a chapter that actually has a little bit of Cecil in it! He's a little difficult for me to write, so please forgive me if he seems a little OOC...!

Carlos tried not to scream when he first laid eyes on him. He did.

Instead, he grinned spectacularly, tearing his eyes away from the man, and finished his announcements to the press before him, trying to rein in his sense of terror by fanning his wings out, just a little, to make it seem like he was at ease. The truth was, he was exactly the opposite.

This lone man did not have wings.

After the formal portion of the meeting was over, he did his best to avoid speaking or making contact with him, whoever this individual was, shaking hands and nodding a lot and pretending to care.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t hide forever, and was forced into meeting him when Old Woman Josie called him over by name.

“Cecil? Cecil, dear, do come say hi!” She waved him over, and Carlos’ heart dropped into his stomach as the very man he’d been trying to avoid—Cecil—wandered over, a polite smile on his lips and an amused glint in his eyes.

“Hello there—you must be Carlos,” he spoke with a smile. Carlos’ heart melted a little, just a little, at that voice. It was a strangely comforting voice, although its deep quality made him question just how far from sinister it really could be.

“Yes—scientifically speaking, that is who I am,” he confirmed, groaning internally a little when he realized what he’d said.

“Ah—well, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Cecil, the Voice of Night Vale,” he greeted him cheerfully, offering his hand. After brief hesitation, Carlos took it, relieved to find that he seemed like every other man he’d met. Yet, somehow, he wasn’t, but Carlos was particularly less concerned to think of that right now and just be glad that Cecil wasn’t some kind of ungodly being.

His wings fluttered out at his sides appreciatively of this fact, and both Carlos and Cecil relaxed just a little.

“Hey, Carlos! There’s something back at the lab we needed to do, we need to start heading back in five minutes,” one of his teammates, Danielle, called over, before heading out towards her car with a few other scientists in tow.

“Right… Well, it was nice meeting you, Cecil, but it seems that I need to run.”

“Yes, right, of course—oh, and if you ever need anything, here.” He passed Carlos a business card, a little shyly, but still smiling warmly.

“Right—thanks, I’ll, uh, see you around.” Carlos fled at once, cheeks a little pink, but surprisingly, miraculously, still in one piece, diving into his car and speeding back towards the lab.

 

* * *

 

If Night Vale was the most scientifically interesting place in the American Southwest, then Cecil was a scientific enigma on his own.

At this point Carlos was ready to lose his mind—probably already doing so, if he thought too much about it; he’d seen angels that he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge, he’d entered the Night Vale Community Radio Station and found deadly radioactivity within the facility but all its inhabitants completely fine, he’d discovered a cat in their men’s bathroom floating almost four feet off the ground, and had seen hooded figures wandering around in the dog park that he wasn’t even legally allowed to be aware of.

Still, even the hooded figures had wings, although they were drooping things that barely counted as such, with black sludge trailing off behind them wherever they went that faded away after a little while.

The angels had, without question or any other prompting, started socializing with Carlos via their wings alone when he’d experimentally waved one at them in greeting with his very own pair. They’d seemed pleasantly surprised, and although he wasn’t really supposed to be talking to any angels or even acknowledging them, he comforted himself with the knowledge that he wasn’t insane, that someone else could see what he did, even if they didn’t legally or politically exist.

As such, Carlos would find himself wandering around or nearby Old Woman Josie’s place if he ever got too lonely, if only to ‘accidentally’ run into an angel to wing-sign at before returning back to the lab.

He’d also find himself trying to help the citizens of Night Vale whenever he and his team discovered scientific anomalies and other hazards. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any means of distributing this information very successfully since apparently it was required that a citizen had a license in order to access a computer (which he had, but were apparently very uncommon). This meant he and his team were forced to rely on Cecil to report their findings to the city via his show on the Night Vale Community Radio.

While he wasn’t half bad at getting the word out, it didn’t really help others much, and to make matters worse, he’d apparently fallen in love with Carlos the first time they’d met, admiring his perfect hair and perfect teeth.

He’d gotten teased for that pretty heavily in the lab after that broadcast, and had been unwilling to leave the building for more than once a week, if only to fill in his quota on Big Rico’s Pizza for dinner before retreating again. His angel companions remained considerate and didn’t bring it up around him, for which he was grateful, but they tended to remain pretty detached and unemotional in general.

Slowly, he ended up leaving the lab more often again, and even ran into Cecil a couple times while doing so. Of course, every time he did, it left his feathers flustered and mussed in his embarrassment, even though their contact was brief.

Cecil was always warm, and acted like he’d never said anything on the radio, or at least, Carlos sheepishly pretended that he hadn’t heard any sort of declarations of love or sing-song compliments about his perfect _anything._

While he was flattered, Carlos still felt uneasy around Cecil. He’d taken to trying to egg some kind of reaction out of the radio host, anything, flapping his wings around wildly or keeping them shut in an attempt to seem angry behind him, but to no avail. Cecil had responded occasionally with slightly widened eyes, or confusion and very rarely hurt, but he’d remained unaffected overall and just kept on with his enthusiastic personality as usual.

The angels had seen Carlos doing this, and taken pity on him, but never provided any explanation for him, more often than not just taking the opportunity to fly away on their more corporeal feathers instead whenever he asked.

Sometimes Carlos was jealous that they could just leave any situation they didn’t like behind like that, but most times, he was appeased with whatever he was faced with.

 

* * *

 

Carlos had, at some point, made it a hobby of his to start taking on bigger tasks and more drastic studies in his time in Night Vale, trying to make it on Cecil’s radio show without having to contact the wingless man directly. It worked, for a while, and although he was still teased by his co-scientists about that one phone call he’d made on the air a while ago, he remained incident-free for the most part.

And then his record was ruined when he ventured into the underground city.

Granted, it was a miniature city and the tallest buildings barely nudged his knees, and the people living there were even tinier. He’d have had interest in taking a pocket lens to view the inhabitants of the underground city had they not, without warning, fired upon Carlos as he stood, peacefully, within the city’s center.

Of course, the whole time he’d heard Cecil’s voice, somehow always present wherever he went whenever the host was broadcasting.

He’d heard the man’s voice breaking, heard the sorrow and fear in his voice, as blood and sweat pooled onto his shirt, and for that single, impossibly long moment before the world evicted him from existence, he felt regret.

When he’d awoken to find himself, once again, above the surface, Carlos made for the Arby’s—someplace safe, somewhere he knew Cecil would find him. He sent him a message to meet him there, and, just like he knew he would, Cecil arrived, flustered and worried and doing his best not to smother Carlos with his emotion.

And trailing behind him, there were anxious swaths of movement, none that Carlos could see directly, but could be noticed if he peered out of the corner of his eye, giving the scientist a little hope of one day seeing Cecil’s wings.

“I just wanted to see you.” He admitted quietly. His own wings—still black and silver and white, spread a little to arch over them when Cecil carefully made to sit next to him on the hood of Carlos’ car, watching the lights appear and shift above the Arby’s, just as he knew they would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and if you liked what you read, please feel free to leave me a comment or a little kudos saying you dropped by and enjoyed what you saw~  
> It encourages this mighty shy writer here to post faster, and a little more often. <3


	3. Such Great Heights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The surprises in Carlos' life apparently never cease to appear, especially when it comes to Cecil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read, I'd like to mention!!!  
> There are references to a few Live Shows in here!  
> There is, of course, some reference to Condos here, as well as the newest show, The Investigators, although that episode/live show hasn't been publicly released yet. Fortunately, the little details from there aren't a huge spoiler for the plot within this most recent live show, so if you get the chance and you haven't gone already, please go see it in person!! <3

After their first date, Carlos couldn’t help but feel like a spotlight had been placed on him as he wandered through the town, anxiously trying not to pay attention to the black car that followed him wherever he went. This also meant that he couldn't visit with Erika nearly as often as he'd liked, although he was sure to raise a wing in greeting whenever he did manage to run into one.

Cecil, in the meantime, continued to chirp happily on the radio, growing more and more enthusiastic with all the little things by the day, if that was even possible, and more notably mentioning Carlos in a more comfortable manner, rather than a worshipful one, whenever on the air.

While Carlos was relieved, he was a little abashed when he realized that Cecil had described their first date nearly word-for-word on the radio a little while afterward, leading to even more playful teasing from his colleagues, and now including knowing looks from passersby on the streets. Their wings would perk up in interest a bit whenever they saw him, adding to his bashfulness. Carlos had taken to tucking his wings behind him while trying not to become flustered or blush too much.

He’d also quietly made occasional appearances within the Radio Station when Cecil was broadcasting, trying to understand why and how the host knew what was happening on the outside of the studio in real time without lag or pause. The interns were polite with him, and although he knew he probably should, he didn't bother trying to talk them out of their current interest in the career path they were pursuing, instead doing them little favors here and there within the building. Carlos always made sure to leave something with them for Cecil as well, a little snack or a little gift, perhaps, if only to have some small excuse for his presence there.

While he found nothing, he did find some things interesting; he found Cecil's desk made of knives within the recording studio, and helped feed the owls within the booth whenever the host wasn't looking. He felt particularly safe within the fortress of a radio station, save for a growling door marked with the words “Station Management”. He soon learned to never encroach on the place again when a letter was vindictively spat out in his direction after he’d ventured a little too close to the door, followed by unforgiving snarls that shook him at his very core. Nevertheless, Cecil promised him that if he was directly invited there, Station Management would be much quieter, especially if he didn't look for too long at the door. Carlos didn't completely believe him, but did his best not to show that anyways.

 

* * *

 

 

It was during their weekly municipally-approved movie night that the idea occurred to Carlos, watching Cecil settle comfortably against him, swathed in feathers that he couldn’t see. The idea that perhaps living together was not so bad, and that building a sanctuary, a home, together was ideal.

The only thing stopping him was the same foolish thing that had made him so hesitant before, but for different reasons.

Carlos didn’t want to have to explain his strange ability, and further expand on why he’d been so reluctant to say anything about it before. But lately, he’d begun to see wisps of… Something, trailing from Cecil’s back, as though there was something there, although he never really could tell when looking directly.

It was too difficult to focus on, because they vanished from view if examined too closely, but Carlos was determined to discover just what it was that occasionally appeared behind his lover’s back.

Still, even without this knowledge... Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. Cecil would understand, and if Cecil was anything, he was open-minded and open-hearted, except, perhaps, when it came to things like Mountains.

This would just be something else Carlos could deal with, he reasoned with himself. Just like the mountains.

When his mail arrived via terrifying postal worker the next afternoon, he made a note to go and investigate the condos that were being advertised on a postcard, and promised himself that he would bring it up with Cecil.

 

* * *

 

Eight weeks after they’d begun living together (not in a condo, of course), Carlos had been requested to bring something over to the radio station for Cecil, having been called by one of the interns to do so. It was some notebook or two that he’d forgotten that morning, and Carlos had been feeling amiable enough about his current work to deliver it.

He pulled up to the station and hurried up the steps, bypassing the bloodstone doors thanks to an intern holding them open. He trudged up to Cecil's studio, having memorized the path well enough by now, and he peered in through the window to see Cecil, who hadn’t noticed him, still at the microphone and rattling off the community calendar, and he'd had to hold back an audible gasp.

Cecil definitely did not have wings—not exactly—but the intricate web of tentacle and eye tattoos scattered across his body had arched right off of his epidermis and into the room around him, accented with the eyes hovering around them. If he were to compare it too something, they looked as though someone had taken a glow-in-the-dark marker and drawn these two-dimensional designs around Cecil midair.

Carlos had already known that the tattoos moved on Cecil's body—they squirmed and shifted, as if they were breathing right along with him, occasionally blinking and shifting positions on his skin. It'd become a past time of sorts for Carlos to trace the ones on Cecil's shoulders, arms, hands, and back whenever he'd fallen asleep.

Still, in mid-air, they flexed fluidly, sinuously, eyes twinkling as Cecil spoke—reporting on some story involving a sinkhole near the Arby’s, from what Carlos could hear. When he began to illustrate the story further, explaining the phenomenon from someone else’s perspective in that strange nearly-omniscient manner, all of the floating eyes closed shut tightly, and the tentacles stilled before coiling up.

It was a magnificent and breathtaking sight.

When Cecil finished that segment of his report, he cut to the weather, and Carlos watched with bated breath as the host’s tattoos withdrew, clinging to his skin and dulling just a little, back into the designs he remembered tracing not too long ago with a fingertip.

He waved when Cecil’s eyes met his, and did his best not to grin when he met the now-beaming man at the door separating them earlier. Cecil was quick to ensconce him in a hug and give him a peck on the cheek, followed by a cheerful thanks and possible dinner plans at Big Rico’s Pizza.

Carlos quickly and easily agreed, swatting lightly at Cecil’s arm with feathers that the other man still could not see—and paused when the radio host stilled, then tutted at him playfully.

When Carlos asked, he simply smiled, shook his head, promised to talk to him over dinner, and quickly returned to the recording booth, tattoos sprawling back out within the space and his caressing voice filling the studio once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, Flamey here~!  
> If you liked what you read, please feel free to leave a comment down below for me to find, or kudos to say you enjoyed what you saw.  
> All feedback is highly appreciated and helps encourage this shy, tiny writer to post more frequently, and more quickly.  
> Thanks for reading! <3


	4. Bad Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil has a surprise for Carlos, and surprisingly, everything works itself out.  
> Scientifically speaking, that is!

“Carlos,” he began as they settled down within their living room. Carlos watched him anxiously, wings twitching nervously as they waited for Cecil to speak. 

“I love you, but please, do try to keep those wings of yours under control while I’m in the radio station? It's a little hard to try and argue with Station Management to keep letting you back into the studio during broadcast time for these little things, but I can't do much if they see feathers flying around.”

_Wings under control? Feathers flying? That's all?_

Carlos’ world began to spin as Cecil’s words sank in.

“You can—you can actually _see_ them?” He blurted, eartips turning red. That meant—Cecil could see him flailing his wings around when he’d spoken to him before they were dating, Cecil could see them arching over him lovingly when Carlos thought he wasn’t looking… And worse!

Cecil knew.

“Of course!” He said with a smile.

“B-but—you never said—how did you even know I—but what about—“ He took in a deep breath when Cecil took his hands gently between his. "Could you explain...?"

“Okay, well, let’s see… Hm, okay, I’ve only been able to see them ever since I was hired at the Community Radio Station, you know, it’s part of the whole ‘Voice of Night Vale’ gig, that kind of thing. It’s important that radio reporters be able to report on what’s happening around us, so Station Management has every new Voice readjust themselves to the job before they take on the responsibilities of it entirely.”

“O-okay… I’m not sure I understand completely, but please, keep going.”

“Well, when we readjust, we’re given these marks, you see—some kind of sign that we’ve changed. I think for Leonard, the last Voice, he got a drawing of a claw on his tongue and a birthmark shaped like a duck somewhere, but it was a sign nonetheless. I got these instead, so I suppose it’s different for everyone,” he mused, absent-mindedly rolling up his left sleeve as he did so.

The deep violet tattoos winked at Carlos, who blinked mulishly back at them in mute terror. He’d never felt so lost or afraid for someone before, but he held himself back and allowed Cecil to finish telling his story.

“Well, anyways—I can’t look in a mirror because of these… Supposedly because those wings that everyone has aren’t the same for us. And they’re not really wings anymore, which is a shame. I never got to see what mine looked like, but oh well. Yours are really quite beautiful, Carlos,” he admitted, somewhat shyly. “But these are kind of our wings, sort of. The thing that we trade for their shape, though, is this.”

The tattoos curled up and off of Cecil’s skin, but this time they were not limited by space, and poised above Carlos’ head and around his wings, making him too nervous to shift them around for fear of colliding with the tentacles or injuring the eyes.

Cecil brushed his hair aside just enough for Carlos to make out a third eye on his forehead—not a tattoo he’d ever seen before. This one was different, however—it shifted color constantly, and was not focused on one single thing, glancing around the room quickly, never looking at one thing for too long.

“Is this how you can see everything?” Carlos asked after a long pause.

“Not everything necessarily, but nearly, yes,” Cecil’s delighted voice filled the space. “It’s kind of like… Partially clairvoyant, I think is the term. I can see wings with this eye, just like I can see everyone else’s at different points in time and space. If the person has wings, like you, then I can see them,” he explained.

"I kind of already knew that you could see these things when you pointed out my tattoos. Most people can't see them unless I want them to," Cecil continued, smiling a little bashfully when the eyes started peering more closely at Carlos, winking and even changing shape in pupil to display little hearts and stars, much to their amusement. 

“I see…” Carlos had relaxed by now, relieved, and was content enough to expand his own pair of wings around them, allowing Cecil the chance to touch them with his “tattoos” if he so chose.

They seemed delighted with the offer, attacking his feathers at once with a strangely clingy touch, flattening themselves onto the feathers playfully if only to be shaken off, then started wrapping themselves around him again. Carlos had jumped initially, startled at their tenacity and overall willingness to have contact with him at all, but he'd allowed it at once, flexing carefully and experimentally. If these were Cecil's wings of sorts, then it shouldn't surprise him that he was immediately embraced so warmly. He gave them a gentle shuffle, rocking them back and forth lightly, comfortingly, like one did for a small child.

“I—um, is that okay?” He asked when Cecil jumped a little. The man grinned sheepishly, and his third eye turned a slightly pinkish color.

“This is very okay—I just haven’t really touched anyone’s wings with these before, so...” He shrugged.

“They aren’t bugging you, are they?” Cecil added suddenly with a laugh.

The tattoos had, at this point, settled over the arches of Carlos’ wings, creating a slight parody of some of the Erika’s he’d seen before, with eyes winking back at him and batting two-dimensional eyelashes at him playfully and the tentacles spiraling around his feathers lovingly.

Carlos tugged Cecil closer with a grin, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Far from it,” he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked what you read, please feel free to leave a comment for me, or a kudos to say you stopped by and liked what you saw. All feedback is really appreciated and encourages this shy little writer to post faster here, and more frequently.
> 
> If you'd like to make a request or just say hi, don't be afraid to drop by my tumblr account here!  
> emi-writes.tumblr.com
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot to mention! <3 I was high on sleep deprivation and completed this fic around 5 AM, with no beta or intern to keep me grounded or check over my grammar and spelling, so please forgive the mistakes! <3  
> I'm re-reading this as I go and editing my mistakes out for easier reading experience as well as making little edits and things in general, so if you find that I've missed something, please don't be afraid to say hi and point it out to me. <3


End file.
